Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex
by RikkaPikaSnikka
Summary: Roppi/Tsuki, AU. After turning to less than conventional means of earning money, Tsuki meets Roppi: A kind, caring man who's using Tsuki as a means to cheat on his current boyfriend, the Strongest Man in Ikebukuro. Told from the point of view of Delic, a host lacking glamor, and his interviewer, who's looking for Tsuki - who's been missing for two years. Rated M for Mature themes.
1. Interview with a Host

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter One:  
**Interview with a Host**

"Can you tell me anything about him?"

The blond's head titled, his gaze unsettled, his fingers absent-mindedly fiddling with a cigarette that was coming close to the end. His face seemed grave, his expression dark, his normally bright eyes dull and narrowed.

"I can tell you that I regret what I did to him," Hushed tones, low voice, gravely - like he had just woken up. "That I feel guilt for what I forced him into."

The interviewer shifted, uncomfortable, before asking, "What did you do?"

"I lead him into this…poisonous lifestyle. He's not the kind of person who can take it. He was a kid, for fuck's sake. I should have never presented him the option." The blond's face twisted into a scowl, perfect teeth grinding together as he loosened the black tie around his neck.

"Wasn't he desperate?"

"Course. Anyone who does…_that,_ usually is. I did it for a time. One of my friends did it for a time. But we were smart enough to not let…emotionally attachments get in the way."

"Are you saying, Delic-san, that Tsuki-kun let his emotions take control?"

Heiwajima Delic, the five-star host at a five-star parlor, leaned back in his seat and drew the last poof that he could out of the cig. He nodded, solemnly, pain crossing his features. He rubbed at his face, eyes full of sorrow and blame.

"He's a really sensitive person; there was no way he could've detached sex and romance. He wouldn't be able to tell the different between fucking and making love if it was more obvious than beer and wine." He snuffed out the burning remains of the butt into an ash tray and then made a quick gesture towards a waitress. A drink was soon placed in front of him.

The interviewer was hoping to avoid an intoxicated man, but it looked like he had no choice. So he sat back, and waited, as Delic downed the small glass.

"Want anything?"

"Water, please."

"Alright. Water my friend here, Kimi-chan."

"Course, Delic-kun."

She walked away, hips wiggling as she approached the bar. They watched her for a second, before turning back to the conversation at hand.

"Why do you want to know about Tsuki-kun anyway? I dunno where he is nowadays. It's been so long." Delic mused.

"I was hoping to be able to find out more about him. I would like to find him if I can, but Tsuki…doesn't want to be found, I think."

"Fair enough." Delic agreed. "Kid's shyer than a mouse. Wouldn't even come out of that hole in the ground for a piece of cheese."

"Hole…in the ground?"

"Yeah, remember that place where he used to live? That basement apartment in Shinjuku?"

The interviewer gulped; he clearly remembered the place Delic was referring to. It was dirty, filthy, full of trash and rats and loud neighbors. It was dingy, dark, damp, and when it rained, water drops dripped dreadfully from the ceiling, landing on unsuspecting heads. Mold grew in the corners of hallways and rooms, and the bed sheets deteriorated faster than paper in water. The rent was overly priced.

Delic chuckled. "What a dump. But he made it habitable and tolerable. He loved that shit hole."

"How did he come to be there?"

A sigh. A hand reached for the box of cigs as the waitress placed two glasses of water down on the table. A small thanks. A lighter, a flash of flame, and more smoke curling upwards.

"Should I start from the beginning? You seem to be asking a lot of questions."

"It'd be…appreciated. As long as you are willing to tell everything you know."

"Of course I am. I'm worried about him too."

* * *

Tokyo, Shinjuku, May

"Delic-san, you have to help me."

Tsuki was a strange kid. Wide eyes, large glasses, awkward height combined with skinny build, all drowning in a long, white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He was anything short of ordinary, and his demanding tone was out of place on his kid-like appearance.

"What? With your homework? No way."

"I don't have any homework."

Delic paused, surprised, and put down the glass he had been cleaning.

"No homework? Why? You always have homework."

Tsuki hung his head, looking away. "I… I dropped out."

"WHAT?!"

"_He was in school?"_

"_College, actually. He was going for art classes or photography or something. Brilliant kid. I never knew why he quit."_

He nodded, quiet and remorse, but Delic could only sigh and reach for the pack of cigarettes he always kept in his pocket. He continued to address Tsuki.

"What do you need help with? I can't exactly house you or anything. I dunno if I can even feed you."

"I just need some way to make money. Tonight. Give me a job, some work to do, anything. I need it. I have to get it, by tonight, or I'm screwed." Delic could tell Tsuki was desperate, but he had no idea why. Tsuki was usually calm and collected. Not frantic and frightened.

"I can't hire you or anything. I can't even let you wash dishes."

"Then let me take out the trash. Sort the recycles. Polish shoes. Something! Even a couple thousand yen would be enough."

Delic shook his head. Tsuki hung his. They stayed this way, Delic slowly washing drinking glasses as Tsuki mellowed out and thought about his supposed impending doom. It was like acid passing through his teeth to say the next question.

"…Do you need money that bad, Tsuki?"

"…Yeah."

Grumbling, Delic tried to reach a conclusion within himself, wondering and regretting. "How bad?"

"I'll do anything. I need it. By tomorrow. I… I don't…"

Even without any idea of what Tsuki was going to say, Delic could read the desperation and the panic in Tsuki's eyes. Something had caused him to lose everything – home, school, and his job most likely – and the kid had turned to family for help. Delic wasn't one to leave someone to drown, but…

"This…won't be easy work."

Tsuki perked up so fast, Delic felt his heart twist and squeeze.

"I don't care! I'll do it!"

"Tsuki-kun… it's degrading…"

"I don't care! I'll still do it!"

Delic gulped, looking for the courage within him to keep on talking. Delic didn't consider himself a courageous person though.

"It's…this client. He comes in every few days, and I know exactly what he's looking for, but because of Hibiya…"

Tsuki tilted his head a little, listening intently, curious and attentive. The guilt curled up even deeper in Delic's heart, but the pure desperation in Tsuki's voice reminded him how much his little cousin needed the money.

"...I've been unable to, I guess you can say, provide for him. I'm afraid to lose him as a customer – he pays really well – but I would hate even more to go back on my word to Hibiya."

Tsuki nodded, face set and determination firm. Delic would just have him take care of a customer! It would be easy! Although Tsuki had never had to act as a host before, he had watched Delic do it often enough that he felt confident. The part that made him nervous was that he had to do more than Delic – what was it that Delic couldn't do because of Hibiya?

"I'll do it, Delic-san."

Delic gulped.

"Okay."

"_I don't think Tsuki realized at the time what I had meant, and I wish I had been clearer in my explanation."_

"_It's not easy asking anyone to sell themselves."_

"_It shouldn't be, no. But Tsuki brought in a lot of business for us, I won't lie, and after the money started to flow, I looked past his emotional state and he gladly 'preformed' every night."_

* * *

Entry Number Twenty-Six, May 18th

When Delic said I would be attending to a certain customer of his, I didn't know what to expect. Even when I was lead to a small room with only a bed and a small table, the thought didn't click in my head. Even when I was dressed in thin, tight clothes, I still didn't link the pieces together. I was an idiot.

Now I realize what I had done and what Delic had asked me to do. I remember my mind going blank the second everything came together, as I was laid down, as…the other man stripped everything away from me.

I hated every single second of it. It was disgusting. Revolting. Dirty and messy. I feel like I may never clean the dirt from my skin.

The only pleasing part is the stack of bills left on the table top, which I found late that night after I had passed out. It was more than I had expected at first – and less than what I would've wanted for selling my body.

Am I really worth no more than a couple thousand yen?

* * *

Customer Review Card #1

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	2. Interviewing the Host

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Two:  
**Interviewing the Host  
**

"How long did Tsuki-kun continue to serve random customers?"

Delic shook his head. "Days, weeks. It all blended together, but it wasn't more than two months I'm certain. By July he had regulars, and because I was beginning to fear for Tsuki's…mental health, I limited it to just those guys."

"How many men?"

"Five, including you, right?"

"…Yes, but…"

Delic chuckled, his eyes grim. "Did you not think I would notice? I remember every face that comes into this bar, sir. Especially any face looking for _that_ kind of entertainment."

The interviewer gulped, and cleared his throat, looking away.

"Sorry. He…was attractive. Cute."

Delic nodded. "Yeah. Cute…"

* * *

Tokyo, Shinjuku, late June

"Please! Don't! Sir, please! It hurts! That hurts!"

"Oh shut up, you wimp. It's all the way in, see? Your greedy little ass is taking it all in."

"I-It…it hurts…take it out… It hurts!"

"No way. You're loving this. I bet you want even more, don'tcha?"

"N-No! No stop! Don't! Don't! DON'T!"

Delic couldn't take it anymore as Tsuki's scream ripped through the air and the man's laughter followed. He backed away from the room, shudders running up and down his spin at what Tsuki was being subjected to in there, and he hoped that the boy would come out with his life intact.

At least the bar was empty, so no one else was around to hear the noise. But it made Delic uneasy, fidgety almost, as he cleaned up and turned his headphones up louder and louder to block out the rape that was going on just around the corner.

Finally, the man exited, satisfied and happy, throwing down the key to the door on the bar. Delic gulped, put down his headphones, and quickly ran to Tsuki's side to check on him.

It had definitely been the worst session the kid had ever taken. He was shaken up, weak and frail, and staring at Delic like a mouse would a cat. The sheets were torn, stripes used to tie his wrists to the headboard and ankles to the side, and Delic could tell that the client hadn't bothered to clean up. Hating that he would have to subject Tsuki to more torture, Delic gently approached him.

"L-Let's…get that out of you, okay?"

There was only a whimper in response as Delic grabbed the plastic ring to slowly pull out the toy that had been pushed deep inside Tsuki. He took no pleasure it watching it slip out and land on the bed with a wet _splut,_ but he felt relief when Tsuki let him untie the knots that bound him. Afterwards, the kid curled in on himself, shaking and sobbing quietly.

"I'll cancel the next guy, okay?"

Strangely, Tsuki stiffened, then shook his head. "Nn… No, don't. I'll j-just…clean up, okay?"

"Dammit Tsuki, you're in no shape to go through shit like that again! I'm not letting anyone else lay a single finger on you tonight, alright?! It's my fault something like thi-"

"It's not your fault, Delic!"

"Yes, it fucking is! I let you do this, I suggested it to you, dammit!"

"It was still my decision!"

Their argument was angry, sad, full of fury and grief at the same time as they bickered back and forth. They were too busy exchanging their hate for one another, for the customer, that they didn't notice when a third individual passed through the doorway.

He cleared his throat. Both of them whipped around to look at him. Delic's reaction was instant rage, while Tsuki squeaked and hid under the remains of the blanket, covering up his mostly naked body.

"Sir, now is not a good time, and you better fucking leave or I will shoot your damn head off." Delic's voice, low and dangerous, caused Tsuki to shudder. The newcomer was unphased.

"I noticed this. I would like to leave something here though, if that's alright. I won't touch him, promise."

Delic, infuriated, glared daggers at the bouquet in the man's hand. He was the next customer, the next man in line to bring Tsuki harm, and all the blond wanted to do was take the flowers and burn them. Yet Tsuki was watching them, his eyes bright and cheerful, and he reached out for them happily.

"Lilies! I can't believe you remembered!"

Tsuki's excitement caused Delic to pause. The man walked in, handed the flowers to Tsuki, who took them gladly and inhaled deeply. He sighed, soft smile on his lips.

"Of course. I saw them on the way over here, I thought you might like them."

"They'll receive much love, I can't thank you enough."

Slowly, Delic's urge to protect Tsuki faded and his anger dimmed. It still lingered, boiling and bubbling underneath the surface, but the last customer of the night seemed…friendly. Perhaps he would understand Tsuki's plight.

"I'll get a vase for them."

"Would you, Delic-san? I'd like that. Some scissors too."

"Yeah…"

Delic stood up and walked out, but stopped outside the door, listening through the wall.

"Long time no see, Roppi-san."

"I haven't been able to get away from the boyfriend much. Please excuse me."

"It's alright. Please, sit!"

The sound of the bed creaking as 'Roppi-san' sat down upon it, and Delic turned away. He needed to get the vase ready for Tsuki's flowers.

* * *

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* * *

Entry Number Thirty-Three, June 24th

A lot of the men that come to see me aren't very nice men. There's one thing, and one thing only, on their minds and all they want to do is cause harm to me. They call me names, hit me, force me to do things I've never done before. I've simply a doll for their pleasure when they come over.

But Roppi-san is different. He is gentle and kind, soft and slow. He brings me gifts: Flowers, chocolates, fruits, nice smelling oils, even little jewels or precious stones. He talks to me, asks me about my day, tells me about his home life and how he's dating the Strongest Man in Japan. He pets my hair and strokes my skin, but it's never very sexual. He says I'm beautiful.

We kiss sometimes. Usually we cuddle, getting close together in the sheets. He once said one day he would show me how to make love, but it would be a long time from now. He said that, if he could, he would chase away all the bad men who come here and pay me for sexual favors. I laugh when he says this.

If he wasn't dating that really strong man, I would ask him out and go on dates with him. I don't know why he pays me just to talk and be friends, but I guess he considers this as cheating. I feel very bad for him, and the man he is with, but I am happy at the same time – happy that I have been given the opportunity to know such a unique, amazing man.

I might be falling in love with Roppi-san.  
It hurts to know that he may never love me back.


	3. Interviewed the Host

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Three:  
**Interviewed the Host**

"Do you think...Tsuki really loved him?" The interviewer asked. Delic smiled sadly, eyes falling to the side, before nodding and taking a long drag from his cigarette. He blew the smoke out before talking.

"Definitely. There was something about how he always wanted to see him. We never knew what days he would come, but he always signed up for the last time slot possible – which no one else ever did. Tsuki enjoyed all the little gifts he would get, and flowers weren't the least of them: Chocolates, Tsuki's favorite ice cream, expensive bars of soup, clothes, sometimes fruits I had never seen before. Once I even found an amethyst ring – which I think was a birthday present."

The interviewer paused, looking up. "Amethyst…is the birthstone of February." He said, cautious. Tsuki hadn't stayed with Delic over the winter, right? But Delic nodded in confirmation.

"Tsuki was born in February. The twenty-third, I think."

"A Pisces then."

Delic laughed. "Yeah, a total fish out of water! Ahahaha! And come to think of it, I have seen fish things too! Damn, that Roppi went all out, didn't he?"

Mr. Interviewer gave a smile, before nodding his head. "Yeah, I guess he did…" He looked down at his notes, as Delic continued to take drags from the cigarette. His eyes were glazed over, thinking.

"Would you mind telling me about how Tsuki moved out? I don't think he went straight to that old apartment I referred to earlier." Delic blinked, trying to focus.

"He didn't." He confirmed, tapping out some ash in the tray before rubbing at his head. He had to think now.

"He moved out in September…"

* * *

Tokyo, Shinjuku, September

"Delic, I'm going to move out."

"What?! To where?!"

They were sitting at the counter before the bar opened, lingering as they cleaned, all of the glasses sparkled up and the tables whipped down for customers. Music played in the background, dull and classical and smoothing for them both. It would be loud and obnoxious when the club opened.

"I've been offered to move in with a friend. I don't wish to impose on you any longer, and he'll get me back up on my feet through less...illegal means."

Delic nodded, but he still looked concerned. Yes, he was happy for Tsuki: This wasn't a good lifestyle for him, Tsuki was only getting hurt, and it was probably best that he left it. However, it was disheartening to know that the boy he had grown to like over these many months was leaving him so easily, the moment he'd been offered a helping hand.

"A friend, yeah? From school?"

"Err… You can say that, yeah."

He frowned, but let it pass. Tsuki was a very secretive person, and if he didn't want to tell, Delic wouldn't make him. Instead, he switched the subject.

"When?"

"Tonight. Sorry it's so soon."

Delic looked a little nervous, but then nodded in understanding. "You want out of here. That's fine. I can…respect that. If I could leave, I would too." Probably not, but putting the idea out there would hopefully remove some of the worry from Tsuki's mind.

Tsuki gulped, but then bowed deeply in thanks, feeling himself shake and shudder as tears were pulled to the front of his eyes.

"I-I'm…s-so s-sorry I…" He shook his head, still looking at the floor. Delic reached down, putting down the glass he was holding, and grabbed Tsuki's chin, directing Tsuki to look at him straight on.

"It's alright."

Delic's hand dropped, and Tsuki nodded, comprehensive enough to only make the simple movement, but he understood Delic on an intensely deeper level. It was a bond of some kind. That Tsuki needed to get out of here more than Delic did. That Delic could deal with this, and Tsuki was cracking under the stress. That Tsuki would break if this continued.

So they cleared up the rest of the counter, and moved on with their evening of entertainment for the rich, the beautiful, the both, and the nasty – both knowing that tonight would be their last night working together.

_"Tsuki had this…thing about him. He always attracted the worst people, mostly perverted, old men, and he never knew how to tell them no. It felt like that…if I wasn't there, he would've been taken advantage of left and right."_

_"Were you worried about him moving out?"_

_"Yeah. Yeah I was…"_

After work, Delic helped Tsuki gather up what small belongings he had, and they put them in a single, large, black backpack. Once it was all zipped up, they gave each other a brief hug, and Delic pressed a few yen into Tsuki's hand.

"For the train ticket. Where will you be going?"

Tsuki gulped, but pocketed the change and gave a short bow in thanks. "To Ikebukuro. It's not too far."

Delic relaxed, a small sigh of relief. "Good. I'm glad you're not traveling far. But please, keep in touch! You have my number, you know where I live, let me know how you're doing whenever you can."

The younger blond nodded, and Delic's small smile morphed into a clear expression of sadness. He placed a hand on Tsuki's shoulder, and they looked at each other, both uneasy and uncertain of what was going to happen. Tsuki looked terrified.

"Be strong. Stay safe."

"You too, Delic-san. Thanks for everything."

"Anytime."

_"That was the last I saw of him for a long time."_

* * *

Entry Number Sixty-Seven, September 16th

I moved out of the host club yesterday.

I'm really thankful to Delic for letting me stay and work there, and the money I earned helped to pay back some of the debt, but there's still a lot to go on it. It was just barely keeping the collectors away, I have to find something that pays a little bit more.

Roppi-san said that he had a…deal for me. He offered me his place to stay for a little while, and he would get me a job with a friend of his – a job that would pay double what I earned at the club, plus it would be… Well.

I had lied to Delic. It wouldn't be an entirely legal occupation, but it would land me in a shit ton less trouble than prostitution.

Roppi's place is really nice. It's small, quiet, and there's not a lot of furniture in it, but he let me sleep on the futon in the living room – he even has a television, with a small DvD player and radio. There's not a ton of food in the kitchen, which made me a bit sad, but Roppi says it's just because him and his boyfriend prefer to eat out.

Out of curiosity, because I remembered a different detail, I asked him about his boyfriend. He said Shizuo and him have been dating for a month now, since Shizuo's stronger than the man he was dating beforehand (the proposed, 'Strongest Man in Japan'). I asked him if he always dated men based on their strength, and he told me that he did. I think it's weird, but since Roppi is offering me his hospitality, I won't judge him or complain.

Honestly, I can't take the sight of his sad kitchen, so I'm going shopping today and I'm going to cook for them both tonight. I want to express my gratitude to each of them, as well as show them that a home cooked meal is possible with me around.

It might be a bit awkward with Shizuo living here, since Roppi's technically cheating on him with me, but I think we'll do okay. It's not like we have sex or anything. We're just really good friends.

Although…I still want us to be more than that.

* * *

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Tip: 20,000￥  
Rating Circled: 10 out of 10

* * *

"I take it then…you don't know any more about Tsuki or where he went to?"

"Nope. Sorry dude. I can't help you out. I got the keys to his old apartment, but I don't even know if they would work. The landlord might've changed out the locks or some shit."

"Understandable…"The interviewer looked down at his notes, occasionally writing down his thoughts and other details that he might've forgotten. Delic sat across from him, taking lazy pulls from a cigarette that was almost gone. They were both lost in thought, not paying any attention to their drinks or the waitress when she paused to check in on them. Delic waved his hand at her, and although she frowned, she walked away.

"Ne, Delic-san, don't you know Shizuo Heiwajima?" The interviewer asked. Delic blinked, a little surprised.

"Yeah. He's a cousin of mine. Why?"

"I have evidence that says Roppi was dating him around the time Tsuki moved out. Could I…perhaps have his contact information?"

Delic decided that this man was both brave and stupid, for only those two aspects combined together would make someone want to talk to Shizuo Heiwajima, the strongest man in Ikebukuro. But after only a moment's hesitation, he sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night, and drew out a pad of paper and a pen of his own.

Quickly, he scribbled down some notes: A phone number, an email, and an address.

Clearly his throat, he put the smoldering cig in the ash tray, before talking about what he had written as the Interviewer picked up the paper and studied it. "Call him first. This is his cell number, he doesn't have a house phone. If he hangs up on you, or dismisses you, try emailing him. He'll get that on his phone too. Don't bother leaving a voicemail, he doesn't really get how that works. If, for whatever reason, he doesn't respond to you or you can't get a definite answer out of him, go ahead and try the address. He doesn't take too kindly to strangers, but… Just explain as much as you can at first, 'kay?"

It was a lot of instruction, but the interviewer nodded.

"Don't tell him what you did with Tsuki. Try not to mention me. Be careful about mentioning Roppi-san, and most of all, do _not _mention Orihara Izaya."

"Who's…?"

Delic shook his head. "No questions, just don't. You'll set him off like a grenade launcher. If he brings up Orihara under his own steam, try and navigate away from the topic if possible. That's all the advice I can really give you, sorry."

"No, no, Delic-san, it's been great. Thank you very much." The Interviewer stood up from the booth, bowing his thanks as Delic watched him, frowning. He sighed – hopefully for the last time – before standing himself and shaking hands with the man.

"If you find Tsuki…"

"You'll be the first contact on my list, I promise."

Delic nodded. "Good. I'd like to know how he's doing…"

The man's smile was a little sad. "Don't we all?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites everyone! I see that a lot of people read, or at least look, at this story, and that really makes my day to know I have a few readers! :3

I'm really friendly, I promise, so don't feel bad about dropping a quick review! Chapter 4 is already completed, and Chapter 5 is about half-way done, so once five is finished, I'll post four! 3


	4. Talk with a Bodyguard

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Four:  
**Talk with a Bodyguard**

Tokyo, Ikebukuro, October

"Hey, kid, why do you always write in that little book?"

Messy, blond hair popped up to reveal a startled face. He had scribbling so intensely, it seemed, that he had lost track of all thought. His eyes drifted downward to his writing, and then back up towards the person who had asked the question. Yet a lump was stuck in his throat, his very breath snatched away almost instantly, and he had to pause too long to swallow it.

Tsuki would never quite get over how beautiful Roppi was.

"Uhm… I-It's like a diary. I…write in it. It h-helps me organize my thoughts a little."

"Oh? Does it have all your dirty little secrets?"

Tsuki laughed, a good-hearted sound that brought an almost involuntary smile to Roppi's face. He moved to the table, holding his morning cup of coffee, and sat across from the pretty young man he had brought home with him. He was worried about what Shizuo thought of Tsuki, worried what would happen to all of them, but Roppi couldn't stand the thought of Tsuki continuing to live in that hellhole.

He couldn't sleep when he knew that other men were touching and corrupting Tsuki's gorgeous self.

"No, it doesn't. I don't think so. I just…write what I've done for the day, what's going to happen."

"Have you written about me?"

His smile, small and coy. His eyes, bright and mischievous. "Of course."

"Can I read?"

Suddenly, a guarded expression. His fingers curled over the edges of the book, and Tsuki shook his head.

"I won't violate your privacy, Tsuki-kun. It was just a question."

"S-Sorry, Roppi-san." He mumbled, but still he clutched the book close to him, protecting it, scared that someone would rip it from his grasp – like the bullies would often do at school.

"Don't apologize." Roppi finished the last of his coffee, before standing up and moving to the counter. He washed out his mug, set it to the side, and began looking through the cupboards for some other form of nourishment that wasn't sugary cereals. Those were Shizuo's and not to be touched.

"Did you want any breakfast, Tsuki?"

"No, it's fine. I made myself some."

Roppi hesitated. Tsuki had a sweet tooth…

"What'd you have?"

"Some eggs."

"We have eggs?"

Roppi curiously opened the fridge to, sure enough, find a small carton of eggs. Three were left inside, as it was only a package of six. He bent down to pick them up off the bottom shelf.

"Huh. Look at that."

"Should I make some for you, Roppi-san?"

Roppi straightened up and handed the eggs to Tsuki, who had stood up from the table to take them. He smiled at Roppi, a pleasant and kind smile, and Roppi found himself eagerly nodding.

"Yeah… I would like that."

"Okay! Just give me a second, I need to wash the pan."

"That's fine, Tsuki-kun. Just fine."

And Roppi waited at the table as Tsuki went to work, taking control of the counter and the stove as if he was a professional chef on a mission for the dinner rush. Roppi could see the determination, the deep concentration, as Tsuki worked, even though – if he was honest – he was mostly looking at that tight, round ass, wondering if it always flexed that way when Tsuki leaned to reach for something.

He gulped, glad that table cloth hid his crotch from view, as Tsuki placed the bowl of newly made eggs in front of him.

"Thanks, Tsuki."

"Anytime, Roppi-san!"

* * *

It took him a few days to work up the courage to call Shizuo Heiwajima. When he did, it was raining outside, and the clouds were heavy and grey. It was a Saturday.

"Mushi mushi?"

"Hello, is this Shizuo Heiwajima?"

"Yeah."

"Hi, my name is S—"

"Look, if you're a fucking sales call, I'm hangin' up."

He gulped, already terrified, before continuing.

"No, no, I'm actually calling to see if I can ask you a few questions about Tsukishima-kun."

There was mostly silence on the other end, and he thought the line had gone dead, before Shizuo grumbled something and sighed heavily, just as Delic had always done.

"Fine. Where'd you get this number?"

"Err, my client…doesn't really…"

"If it's that damn flea, tell him to keep his fucking nose out of that kid's business! Tsuki doesn't want to deal with him anymore!"

Flea?

"Izaya-kun, I swear if you're listening in on this, I'm going to come over there and-"

Oh!

"No, no, no, Heiwajima-san! It was Delic! Delic gave me your number!"

"Oh… So that's how it is…"

He had no idea what that meant, but he gulped, unsure about Shizuo's reaction, before there was more grumbling. He was obviously fighting with himself about something, before he seemed to give in.

"What'd you wanna ask?"

"I was hoping we could meet up somewhere and talk about this."

"Great. I know a good little restaurant. Good food. Can you do tonight?"

"Of course, sir."

"Then here, let me tell you how to get there…"

Over all, he decided Shizuo was a nice person, if a little misunderstood and a little angry sometimes. But he was a fine gentleman, kind and helpful – the kind of person who wanted to care for people, but found it difficult to express that. However, he had yet to meet Shizuo in person – and those kinds of appearances could really change opinions.

* * *

Entry Number Sixty-Eight, September 17th

Meeting Shizuo-san wasn't too bad. I guess he's family too, after all, thought a lot more distant. Our last names aren't even the same, though the whole 'island' theme seems to still be going strong.

We shook hands, his fingers much longer and thicker than mine, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. I'm a little unnerved: This is who I'm competing with for Roppi-san? It makes my stomach twist and churn, my heart and head ache, and my knees weak. There's no way I could be any competition against Shizuo.

It makes the idea of being with Roppi completely hopeless, despite it being all that I want. But Shizuo's a nice guy, he really is. A little cold, a little distant and a bit dumb, but still a good person. He's letting me stay at his apartment. It makes me uneasy though, knowing that him and Roppi are sleeping together in the next room, while I'm on the couch. That they could be doing any number of things.

I want to be the one in Roppi's arms.  
I want to be the one to hold Roppi close.  
I want to be the one to love him.  
I want Roppi to be beside me, not Shizuo.

This jealousy…it burns and consumes me.


	5. Talking with the Bodyguard

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Five:  
**Talking to the Bodyguard**

"Russian…Sushi?"

"I know it's a weird name, but it's a good place. C'mon."

He followed Shizuo inside, where they were greeted by an old, grey-haired man, who soon sat them down at a private table near the back. Shizuo played with the tea cup a little, and the interviewer could see that he was nervous. Something was off about him, the way he fidgeted, the way he glanced around cautiously. So he cleared his throat, to gently grab Shizuo's attention, and he started with his first question.

"Uhm, as you know, I wanted to ask about Tsuki. Do you mind if I record all this?"

Shizuo stared at him, frowning, as if wondering why their conversation had to be recorded, but he let it pass. He shrugged, deciding it was an unimportant matter to be focusing on, when he was about to relive a pretty sour moment in his life.

"Okay, good." The interviewer had set up the recording device, the same one he had used for Delic, except with a different tape.

"When did you first meet Tsuki?"

"The day Roppi brought him home."

"Uhm… Okay. Did you know anything about him before hand?"

"Nope. Roppi just said someone was gunna be livin' with us. He didn't say much else. I just told him they had to chip in on rent and food."

"Did…Tsuki do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah he always did."

He took notes at the same time, sometimes scribbling down on paper, sometimes flipping through a notebook. Shizuo's frown deepened. He didn't know why this person wanted all this information on Tsuki.

"Why are you asking all this?" He asked, blunt and forward. "Whatever it is, Tsuki's innocent. He's a good kid who got tied up with bad people. Leave him alone." There was a hint of a growl in the last sentence, but the interviewer didn't even seem fazed.

"Actually, I'm hoping that all of the information I get will help me to track him down. He's…been missing." He said honestly, looking up at Shizuo Heiwajima. They both looked a little sad.

"…For how long?"

"Nearly two years now. Just dropped off the charts. I'm hoping that by connecting with those that knew him, we'll be able to find him again. There's…important news we have to deliver."

Shizuo nodded. Drinks arrived at their table, and they placed their orders for dinner. The waiter, a tall dark man with a funny accent, was charming. Kinda.

"Tsuki was a quiet kid. Anyone could see that. He was really nervous all the time too. Always jumpy and twitchy. He hated talking, especially to me. He always avoided me if he could help it. I didn't mind, really, but…it hurts a bit, y'know? When someone in your own home doesn't wanna be with ya?"

The interviewer nodded, understanding, but he already knew why Tsuki didn't want to be around Shizuo. The answer to him was more obvious, yet he was curious to know if Shizuo knew the relationship that had existed between the kid and his partner.

"How did…Roppi explain him?"

Shizuo shrugged. "He didn't. Tsuki said they were friends from school, but Roppi was quite a bit older than him, so I never really knew."

"Do you…wanna know how they met?"

Silence stretched between them as Shizuo thought about it, that ever-present frown still there, but his hand reached up for a box of cigarettes, and soon, just like Delic, Shizuo was smoking.

"I'm not prepared for the answer, but go ahead."

The interviewer gulped. "Tsuki was…selling himself and Roppi was his customer."

Shizuo's eyes widened a little. "Selling himself…?"

"Err, yes, yes. Prostitution."

Shizuo seemed weak, teetering unexpectedly, yet he snapped out of it and continued onward. "That explains a lot, I guess."

He looked up from his notes, surprised. "Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Care to explain?"

Silence again, before Shizuo finished his first cigarette and reached for another. "Alright. It was a few months after Tsuki had moved in…"

* * *

December, Ikebukuro, Tokyo

"Nnng! Ahhh! Hhhaaa…. NNNGGH!"

"Damn, Tsuki, can't you be quieter?"

"Th-Then… don't d-do…thhaaaahhh!"

Shizuo had just come home, had placed his bags down in the kitchen, and walked towards his room to change. Yet he paused, hearing squealing and…other strange sounds coming from further in the apartment. He hesitated, eyes wide, unsure if he should proceed or turn around now. He had little to no idea what was going on, but there must be a reason why the apartment was still dark and not yet lit up, despite the other residents being home.

"Hhhnnggnnn… Rrroo…ppiii…"

"Mmm, Tsuki… Does this feel good for you?"

"Yeh… Yeah. It kinda does."

"Good. Now just—fuck!"

"Haha! Got ya—AHHHHNNN!"

Tsuki's loudest cry yet terrified Shizuo. However, it didn't seem to be a cry of fear or personal endangerment. Instead, it was a cry of pain, a cry of desperation, and a cry of…pleasure.

"Dammit Roppi! That's too much! Don't m-move, I need to adjuuuuHHHAAA! Too much! Too much!"

"Shhh, Tsuki. It just feels like a lot 'cause you're not used to it yet. Look, it fits fine. Let me know when I can move."

Heavy panting as Tsuki supposedly adjusted, while Shizuo lingered in the doorway, too terrified to try and look. He couldn't see them, and he was sure they couldn't see him, but the sounds were vivid enough to paint a picture of what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Squelching, like a plunger almost, and Tsuki's hitches of breath, followed after Roppi's grunting and growls of possession. And as they continued, Tsuki slowly getting louder, Roppi quickly starting to moan, Shizuo decided he couldn't take anymore. He stood up and quickly left the apartment, feeling sick to his stomach, feeling his legs going weak, and his hands trembled something terrible. The door slammed shut behind him, before he teetered over to the side railing, where his lunch escaped to the alley below.

"Shizuo-chan?"

He looked up, surprised, before quickly whipping his mouth on his hand, being careful not to get anything on the nice suit his brother had bought for him.

"Tom-san…"

"Hey… What's wrong?"

Shizuo had always been thankful of the way Tom knew when to ask about a problem and when to keep it silent. He was thankful that Tom knew all the right things to say and all the right things to do, even when times were getting tougher and tougher. But Shizuo wasn't sure if he should tell Tom-san about what he had witnessed in his own apartment. If Tom-san knew that Roppi was cheating on Shizuo, wouldn't his opinion about them both change? Wouldn't it drop?

Shizuo didn't want Tom-san to view him any differently than what he already did. He couldn't bring any negative thoughts to Tom, not right now.

"Shizuo-kun, you're worrying me… You're looking really pale… Let's go lie you down."

Tom moved forward, reaching for the doorknob, but Shizuo stopped him.

"No! Don't go in there!"

Both of them stopped, frozen as they stared at each other, before Tom nodded his understanding.

Shizuo sighed in relief.

"Do you wanna come over to my place for a bit, Shizuo-kun?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."

* * *

Entry Number Eighty-Seven, December 12th

It had happened so suddenly.

Yet I couldn't be happier!

It started off as a fairly normal day, even with breakfast and all, but when I got home from Orihara-san's, Roppi was here and he greeted me with some pretty flowers and a hug. I thanked him for the gift, and as usual, I took down a vase and put them in water. Gifts from Roppi aren't uncommon, but they aren't an everyday thing. I still love to get them, and I cherish every present that he places in my hands.

Afterwards, I sat on the couch and turned on the news, but he quickly joined me and I lost all interest in the television. He drew my attention away from the reporter, his fingers brushing over my hand, my leg, and soon, my cheek was in his palm and we were kissing.

Kissing isn't uncommon between us, but it's hard to do when Shizuo's usually home.

We kiss for a long time, but then I hear the television being clicked off and feel Roppi lowering me to the couch. I dunno how we got into the bedroom later, 'cause that's where I woke up just now, but I remember a lot more about the… the sex and stuff.

He was really good.

I mean like, really, _really _good. I dunno why Shizuo hasn't done anything with Roppi yet (Roppi says he's a bit of a prude, but I think it's just 'cause he's really nervous and doesn't know what to do), but I'm more upset with myself. Why haven't I done anything with Roppi before this?!

Actually, I know why I haven't. I was nervous. I was scared. I was terrified that I wouldn't be good enough for Roppi-san and that he would drop me once he found that out. Yet now, I feel happy, I feel amazing. I'm the number one object in Roppi's life at this moment, and that means the world to me. More than anything else.

It's amazing.

I asked Roppi who he loves more, but he wouldn't tell me. He said he was unsure. I asked him who he would rather be with, but he seemed unsure of that either. I've watched him and Shizuo get into really big fights, and I've watched as Shizuo hit him or growl at him or yell. It's never very serious, and Roppi's never truly hurt, and Shizuo always apologizes afterward and makes up for it as best he can, but…

I don't understand why Roppi would want to be with a man like that. I don't understand why Roppi doesn't want to be with me.

He made me promise I wouldn't tell Shizuo. I agreed.

I wish I could, though. I wish I could.


	6. Talked to the Bodyguard

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Six:  
**Talked to the Bodyguard**

"I don't know why I never made Roppi fess up. It was amazing enough that someone wanted to be with me. I was really grateful to him, and he didn't make me that angry. Yeah, I yelled at him a couple of times, but he took it in stride and always forgave me. I thought… I thought he was the only person in the world that would put up with me. 'Course, I've realized differently now, but at the time…"

"It was an unhealthy relationship for all of you, I would think."

"Yeah."

Shizuo trailed off into silence, and his cigarette was nearing its end. He tapped it out into an ash tray, before pushing down the butt into the glass.

"It's like those boxes for smoking. Y'know the ones in the train station?"

"Of course."

"Well, there's an even tinier one in Sunshine Sixty. It's the shittiest little thing, not even enough room for five people, but we all shove inside anyway. We go to extreme lengths just to get a smoke. Which, turns out, is unhealthy for us." Shizuo picked up his chopsticks, wooden and pale, and snapped them. The left one was splintered horribly, and he grumbled.

"See? This is my luck. Simon, can I get another pair?"

"Shizuo want more chopstick to eat sushi?" The black man said. The interviewer thought his accent was strange, but decided that everything about the man was a tab outlandish. It was not Japanese.

"Yeah. Just another set." Shizuo confirmed, before the waiter left. He turned back to the interviewer.

"I wish I could tell you where Tsuki and Roppi went afterward, but I don't know."

He nodded, understanding, as Simon brought them dishes of sushi and a tokkuri. Shizuo hesitated as Simon left, both of them staring at their cups.

"Uhh, which of us is younger?"

The interviewer chuckled, before picking up the bottle and pouring them both the sake. "Don't worry about it. Take this as a gesture of my appreciation."

"Oh… Alright."

They started to eat a little, Shizuo's second chopsticks splitting perfecting, but they both soon stopped, their minds busy and their stomachs uneasy. Shizuo swallowed, glanced out at the rest of the restaurant, before speaking.

"I…know someone who might know where Tsuki is. Even if he doesn't know, he could find out."

"Really? That would be wonderful!"

Shizuo hummed, but he seemed tense.

"You have to promise me you won't tell him who directed you to him. You don't tell him anything about Tsuki. You don't let him near a hair on that kid's head." Shizuo's gaze hardened, his brow furrowing. The interviewer grew nervous as he watched Shizuo grit his teeth together, watched as his fists curled tighter and tighter.

"I won't, Shizuo-san. My mouth won't let any secrets loose to him."

Shizuo shook his head.

"He's a crafty, manipulative, blood-sucking bastard. No matter what you try to do, he'll get something out of you. Just…do your best, I'm sorry." His head was hung, his gaze lost. The man swallowed, suddenly realizing who Shizuo wanted to direct him to - and not knowing if he actually wanted to talk with the man who had caused Tsuki's life to head for the worse.

"You mean Orihara-san."

"Yeah," Came Shizuo's sullen reply. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up and grumbling, before returning to his food. As he dipped a roll of sushi into the wasabi mixture, he added, "I'll give you what contact info I have on him, but I dunno what's still in use or not. Flea changes his phone number every few weeks, if he can."

He nodded in response, just thankful that Shizuo was offering. Yet it was about time for him to partake in some of Delic's sound advice and direct the conversation away from the dangerous waters known as Orihara Izaya.

"Can you…maybe tell me about his habits?"

* * *

Ikebukuro, Tokyo, November

Shizuo often came home to Tsuki cooking. It could be only three in the afternoon or seven in the evening, something was always on the stove when Shizuo walked in the door. Sometimes Roppi would be there too, sitting on the couch and reading while the news played quietly in the background, or he would be out, and the radio would be turned on instead of the television. Shizuo preferred the sound of the radio.

However, he was never quite too sure what to do when it was just him and Tsuki in the apartment.

First, he would change. Out of the bartender suit, out of the fancy clothes, and into something more comfortable and meant for home: Grey t-shirt, soft shorts, and sometimes socks if the floors weren't warm. Second, he would use the toilet, wash his hands, and brush his hair. Third, he would take the time to make sure his phone and sunglasses were safe, and if he felt like it, he would take a smoke out on the balcony.

When there was nothing left to do, he would come inside and watch Tsuki. The kid was amazing.

He looked a lot like Shizuo, but then again, that wasn't saying much. Awkwardly tall with a skinny build, he had knobby joints and long fingers. In his facial features, Shizuo could see Kasuka: Soft, graceful angles and calm, pleasant eyes, with just the cutest noise and plush lips. Yet he often fidgeted, biting his tongue and lips and nails, tugging at his hair and clothes, even rubbing at his temples. Shizuo could see the Heiwajima in him too, in the way his teeth were slightly crooked, his forehead was too small for the rest of his face, and how his hair was just all over the place. It was bleached blond, several shades lighter than Shizuo's. His brown roots stuck out.

One night, Tsuki was staring at his pot, thinking, before he spoke aloud.

"Ww… Want to help me, Shizuo-san?"

Shizuo was so surprised by the question, he had to think about it. He stared at Tsuki, confused, before awkwardly nodding. "Uh… Yeah."

Tsuki smiled. It was lopsided, something Shizuo had never noticed in his face or Kasuka's. Something that wasn't Heiwajima. That's right. Tsuki was distant family.

"Great! Uhm… Here, can you wash these for me? Please?"

He directed Shizuo towards a couple of potatoes and carrots by the sink. He nodded before turning on the water and going to work. As the evening continued onward, Tsuki kept assigning Shizuo to simple tasks, as he did the more difficult and time-consuming ones. The potatoes and carrots were peeled, chopped, and then diced, all by Shizuo's hands.

Some hours later, Roppi walked through the door, exhausted, but even he was surprised by the sight of Tsuki and Shizuo working together in the kitchen.

"_Okaeri nasai, _Roppi-san! Welcome home!"

"Welcome home."

Roppi stood there, mouth slightly open, before smiling and laughing.

"_Tadaima, _Tsuki-kun, Shizuo-san. It's good to be home!"

This became the first night that they all joined together in the kitchen, moving about as they placed the last finishing touches on dinner, before they all gathered at the small table, thanked Tsuki for the meal, and ate. It was the first night they felt like they could live together, that they could bond together, despite them being an unlikely combination of people.

Anyone who could've seen them might say differently, that these three people were too different from one another to cooperate.

But it was Tsuki that had made it happen.

* * *

Entry Number Hundred-Four, January 22nd

Shizuo-san's birthday is coming up.

I know because Roppi mentioned it after we had…fooled around and were watching some television. I had been really happy, smiling like the idiot Roppi calls me, but the moment Shizuo's name left Roppi's mouth, I felt my heart just drop. I think I left it on the floor somewhere, because it still feels like it's missing from my chest.

Why Shizuo? Why not me? My birthday's coming up soon too, _why not me?!_

The jealousy ate through me, burning my throat and tongue and making my mouth taste like rotten eggs. I wanted something horrible to happen, something to prevent Shizuo from returning. I wanted Roppi all to myself, so that he would only have one person to love. I wanted – and still want – to be the only person that Roppi has in his life. It was difficult to watch.

But I stay silent. I keep my mouth shut because I don't want to cause trouble between them. All that I wish for is Roppi's happiness, and it is Shizuo that makes Roppi happy. Although he smiles around us both, it is Shizuo that can bring that gorgeous grin more easily to Roppi's lips. It is Shizuo that Roppi seems most content with. It is Shizuo that Roppi wants to make love with.

It remains a bitter reminder of how tainted my skin is, that other men have touched me. I feel disgusting, like my body is dying on the inside, as if my very core is rotting. Emotions boil through me.

Maybe Orihara-san is right. Perhaps it is time to forget and move on. Being with Roppi is a lost cause when Shizuo is in the picture. I am not Shizuo. I am Tsukishima. I must stick with who I am and not who I want to be. I should not rely on others to feed me, to house me, to choose my career for me. I must be independent – if only so that I am no longer a burden to Roppi's life, so that he may live happier than he ever has before.

My heart is tightening in my chest. I'm terrified of life without Roppi, but it must be done.

It must be done.

* * *

"Ah, it's about time you called me."

The voice on the other end is silky smooth, like fine, royal velvet. There's a purr at the end, seductive and enticing. The interviewer gulps, showing his discomfort, before tugging at his collar. Heiwajima Shizuo snorts from across the table, able to hear the phone from where he sits.

"Uhm, hello, is this Orihara Izaya-san?"

A laugh, like some sort of demonized rooster, carries over the tiny phone.

"Of course this is! And who might you be?"

"Well, I'm S-"

"Oh, nevermind. I know who you are; it's too much of a bother to listen. I'll be expecting you at three o'clock tomorrow. I'm sending you an e-mail with the address, don't be late! Bye bye bee!"

There's a laugh, a click, and the line is dead. The man shudders, closing the phone and pushing it away from him. Shizuo doesn't look surprised.

"He…knows everything. I dunno why or how or anything, but if anyone can find Tsuki, it'll be him. If there's one thing I trust him to do, it's to have his nose involved with everyone, even if it's none of his damn business." Shizuo seemed upset, if not disgruntled. The interviewer nodded.

"It's alright, Shizuo-san. I'll try not to give away too much."

"…Please, for Tsuki's sake. I'm…worried about what Izaya-kun would do to Tsuki again."

He nodded, understanding Shizuo's plight.

"I'll keep him safe, I promise."

"Thanks."

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is so late in coming! ^^/

You can probably figure out who'll be the next person, haha. xD He's been a little...tricky in writing. Izaya is always tricky in writing. x.x

If anyone would like to leave a review, it'd be much appreciated! :D I'm a tab unsure on where I'm going (I know what's going to happen, and I have an destination, but my stepping stones are still being laid out), so feedback from my readers would be great, if just to see where you guys would like this story to head!


	7. Encounter with an Informant

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Seven:  
**Encounter with an Informant**

Shinjuku, Tokyo, September

Tsukishima was very nervous.

Roppi-san said they were going to go meet someone who happened to be a cousin of his. Roppi explained to Tsuki quite clearly that he hated the man and that he was a maniac in every way. However, he was intellectually brilliant – smarter than anyone else Roppi knew.

"He's screwed up a lot of people, so you have to stay strong, because if you become weak, he'll break you too."

Tsuki swallowed heavily, already feeling his body starting to tremble. Roppi turned to him when they were outside the door, before adjusting Tsuki's scarf, so that it sat comfortably around his shoulders without hiding his face too much. Roppi continued to arrange Tsuki's clothes as neat as he could, as cold autumn air blew around them.

"Roppi-san, if he's not a nice person, why are we going to him?"

"Because he'll pay well. He'll get you out of that debt you're in with your brother, and he'll… Well, he can help fix some things. Plus, this way, you won't have to be with those other disgusting men anymore." Roppi spoke with a soft tone, his voice strained and uneven. He didn't want Tsuki to work for this man. He didn't even want these two people to be in the same room. Hachimenroppi loathed his cousin, Orihara Izaya, above almost all other humans.

His heart fell when he saw Tsukishima nodding. It broke him to see someone so young ready to take on the worst that the world had to offer. Yet what could be worse than what Tsuki had already gone through?

"Do you think you're ready?"

"I…I don't think I'll ever be ready, Roppi-san."

At that, they both smiled at each other, although their eyes exposed their uneasy and nervous selves.

Suddenly, the door behind them opened, causing them both to jump.

"Are you lovebirds going to stand out there all day? C'mon, I'm getting bored just waiting! Come inside, come inside. I'll have my secretary get you some tea."

A deep chill ran up Tsuki's spine, and it wasn't from the chilly wind.

He looked almost exactly like Roppi, although he was much taller and broader. His eyes were brown, dark and deep, and his hair was shorter, more ruffled and less elegant. He had a lanky, almost too-tall look about him, and Tsuki knew that he was quick just by the way he gestured for them to come in.

This man was a demon.

Tsuki held onto the back of Roppi's coat as he led the way inside, unable to fully glance away from Izaya's wide grin as he watched him. Eventually, he moved past them into the apartment, chatting constantly and telling a green sweatered woman to go make tea.

"Sit, sit! My honored guests, it is my pleasure to welcome you to my home and office. Is there anything specific you'd like in your tea? Milk? Honey? Sugar? Cinnamon?"

"We're not here to entertain you, Izaya." Roppi's voice was cold, almost harsh, as he remained standing with Tsuki by his side. Izaya blew out one side of his mouth, disappointed that his fun was being ruined so quickly in the encounter.

"Fine, fine. At least sit down and accept the drink, like civil guests."

Roppi blinked, unresponsive, but he did turn and direct Tsuki to sit down, nestling himself beside the boy that was quickly becoming a shaking leaf. He laid a hand on his knee, and slowly, the blond seemed to collect himself and stay composed.

"Good," Izaya sat down across from them, elbows on his knees and his hands put together. "Now, what did you want to discuss with me, dear cousin? It's not often family comes and visits."

"You told me a few weeks ago you wanted some extra help. I've come to offer it."

He looked a little surprised, but Tsuki felt that it might be fake. Izaya-san didn't seem like a man who could be caught off guard so easily. Too soon, he was leaning forward and peering at them both, examining them for any movement, watching Tsuki like a hawk.

Tsuki reached out and grabbed Roppi's hand, squeezing it. Roppi squeezed back. It would not be a motion missed by Izaya's eyes.

"Would I have both of you at my disposal, or only the Heiwajima kid?"

A large blink from both of them, surprised. Tsuki shook his head, "I-I'm not… Mm-My nn-name isn't Heh…"

Izaya waved his hand, dismissing Tsuki's words. "It's bothersome. I don't want him around. It will be too much trouble in the long run to have one of _those _infesting my work place."

Roppi's mouth tightened. "What if I promised you a day of free reign around Ikebukuro?"

He pondered this, but then shrugged. "As compelling as it sounds, I know your offers often come with expiration dates. I don't need to be in Ikebukuro as of this moment; my work is centering me in Ueno and Taito. I can't rely on you."

"If you gave me three days advance notice, that day could be whenever you want it."

"Not going to work, Hachi-chan. Try something else."

"Free ootoro for a year," Roppi replied.

"You can't buy me with things that are material." Izaya easily rebutted.

"I'll do some work for you for free. Willing and everything." Roppi replied. Izaya stiffened, as if he might consider and accept the offer, but then shook his head.

Tsuki relaxed. He hadn't realized he was tense.

"Why would I need your work when I could hire anyone else?"

Roppi snorted. "What do you want then, Izaya? All I want is a job for the kid, where he can be safe. I thought I might be able to trust you with something so…simple."

Izaya laughed. "I'm deeply flattered, Hachi-chan, but I don't know what kind of work he can do! You didn't give me a resume or anything!"

The sound of Tsuki shuffling his feet caused Roppi to grow concerned, so he quickly threw all caution to the wind. He didn't want to cause any more discomfort to Tsuki's self-consciousness.

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know about Heiwajima Shizuo."

Izaya's mouth became a very thin line. His eyes hardened, his gaze suddenly piercing, and his hands gripped his knees so hard, the knuckles became white. Seconds later, a knife was sticking out of the couch, centimeters from Tsuki's head. He squeaked, and moved away from it, wondering when Izaya had thrown it.

Panting, enraged beyond understanding, Izaya grumbled to himself. "Whatever I want to know? How do I know that you can procure sure information?"

"Because I'm living with him. Because I'm dating him."

"Be that as it may…" Izaya grew furious, stood up, and took the knife out of the couch. He pointed it at Tsuki, who squeaked and tried to squirm away.

"You're to be here at nine a.m., every morning, six days a week. You will work until five p.m., and then you will go straight home. You will get no breaks, no lunches, and do exactly as you are told. Do you understand, runt?"

Tsuki nodded. "Y-Yes sir…"

Izaya scuffed, before turning away and going back to the kitchen. The tea sat on the coffee table, cold.

* * *

Once again, he was nervous about approaching his next interviewee. But this time, he felt that he had a real reason to feel anxious: This was Orihara Izaya, information broker, one of the strongest people in Tokyo, and a person with incredible influence. Both Delic and Shizuo had disliked him, and from what he had read of Tsuki's journal entries, Tsuki and Roppi had as well. He was not a friendly person.

He gulped, lifted his hand to knock on the door, but it was opened before his fist could even move. Izaya-san's face was lite up, all of his pearly teeth dazzling bright, before ushering him inside.

"Good of you to come, good of you to come! It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Your cousin talks very fondly of you."

"D-Does he…? I didn't realize…you guys were friends…"

"Oh but of course! We went to high school together, y'know? How's he doing these days anyway?"

He had walked around and leaned over a computer desk, clicking away at the screens with a mouse. Yet his pose said that he was very much aware of the conversation.

"He's…fine. Still with his gang."

"Good, good. He's a good person."

The phrase was so strange falling from his mouth, like honey being made by wasps, that it caught him off guard. He tried to pull himself together, reaching for the tape recorder and starting to set it up. Izaya seemed to finish whatever he was doing on the computer and stared at it intensely as he walked around, like it might jump up and bite him. He sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"Uhm, well, Orihara-san, I'm here to ask about Ts-"

"About Tsukishima-kun," He interrupted. The man hesitated before nodding his agreement. Izaya chuckled.

"Ahh, sweet, shy Tsukishima-kun. He was so naïve and stupid. Why are you looking for him? I thought he paid everything back?"

"Err, well, he did, but that's not why we're looking for him."

"We?"

The interviewer gulped. "Well, myself and…some of his…immediate family."

"Ah. So it's about Tsugaru-kun, I'm guessing. How interesting." Izaya's smile was all-knowing, but his eyes betrayed him: They were still looking at the tape recorder every few seconds, and he glared at it like he had laser vision.

"Uhm…yes. Interesting." The interviewer repeated, before snapping himself out of it. Why would anyone glare at a simple tape recorder? Maybe he was imagining it. "Anyway, uhm, I wanted to ask you about Tsuki's time here, working for you. What was it like?"

Izaya glanced up, his face going from a frown to an instant smirk. "He was…pleasurable to have around, I should say. Tsuki-kun was an adorable kid, and it was nice having him working for me. His naivety made it easy, sadly. Never knew quite what he was doing…"

He thought the look on Izaya-san's face might have been regret, but it was soon replaced with a devilish smirk. "I'm guessing Tsuki-kun never told you what happened, hmm?"

The interviewer gulped. "Actually, I haven't, uhm, talked with Tsuki in a long time. I'm hoping to retrace his steps and catch up with him, or find someone who knows where he went."

Izaya stared at him, before laughing manically and standing up. "Ahahaha! Dear lord! Don't you know who you're talking to?!"

The interviewer was uneasy. "Of course I do."

"Then you must know that I'm one of the best informants in Tok-"

"Orihara-san, we're not interested in…uhm, using your services."

Izaya paused, halfway to his computer desk, glaring at him with his eyes narrowed dangerously and his knuckles turning white as they gripped the edge of the table he leaned against. He took a deep breath, stood up straight, and walked back to the couch with a sway of body that hadn't been present before.

"Is that so?" He muttered, voice low.

He could only nod.

"Well then. No use in taking on a job if I won't get paid. It's bothersome. What would you like from me, then?"

A sigh of relief couldn't be more well-earned then it was right then. Izaya-san scared him, much more so than Shizuo had, and it was just unnerving to be beside him.

"I'm hoping for a detailed account of the work Tsuki-kun did for you. No one's been able to tell me."

"Ah, is that so? Well…"

* * *

Shinjuku, Tokyo, September

"You're late, y'know. That's not a very good impression."

Tsukishima was shaking like a leaf in the wind, eyes wide and round behind his glasses. He was constantly fidgeting, be it with his scarf or his bag or his fingers. His hair was tousled – like he hadn't brushed it - and no matter how Izaya looked at him, all Tsukishima looked like was another Heiwajima monster.

"Ih-I'm sorry, Orihara-san. Ih-It wuh-won't happen again!"

"But it will. If you're late on your first day, you'll be late on your second day. And if you're late on your second day, you'll be late on your third day. It's just not a very good impression, Tsukishima-kun."

The whole time Izaya spoke, he was writing on a piece of paper, glancing up at the screen in front of him occasionally, and once, he even adjusted his glasses. Tsuki didn't know what to say, so he stayed quiet.

He stood there for quite a while, not knowing what to do but just be silent.

"Ne, Tsukishima-kun, is it common in your family to name your male heirs such girlish names? Well, I guess Kichirou isn't a very girly name, but Shizuka and Kazuko and Tsuki!"

"I…I dah-don't know, Orihara-san…"

Who was Kichirou? Was that an uncle?

Kazuko? Kasuka? It made Tsuki's head spin.

"Hmmph. Go make tea."

Tsuki started at Izaya's command, but immediately went to go obey it. He stumbled into the kitchen, and glanced around for a kettle. He saw one on the stove – but steam was already beginning to gently leave the spout. A woman stood by the stove, her foot tapping as she waited.

She glanced up at him, eyes narrowing. "You the Heiwajima kid?"

Tsuki gulped, and shook his head. "Mm-My name's Ff-Fuyukeiru Ts-Tsukishima."

She blinked, but then shrugged and turned away from the stove. "Bring me some too when it's done."

The woman walked out of the kitchen and Tsuki stood there, confused, before glancing around. The kitchen was…a bit of a mess.

By noon, Tsuki had not only made tea for all of them, but the kitchen clean and lunch on its way. Izaya walked in to check on him, and was pleasantly surprised about the state the room was in. While he wasn't a dirty person, the kitchen had fallen into a state of disarray lately – if only because work was more important.

Hands on his hips, he tilted his head as he inspected the place, before picking up his bowl of rice and curry Tsuki had put together.

"Acceptable. Sort the folders on the coffee table, alphabetically and chronologically, after you clean up."

Tsuki nodded.

_"So… Tsuki did domestic and paper work?"_

_"Mostly, yes. I had him run errands occasionally, but he was usually just another secretary. See, the one I had really wanted more time off, and she complained a lot. Tsuki-kun was quiet and he performed mindless tasks well enough. He wasn't very smart though – and anything harder than sorting or cleaning would have to be redone by myself or Namie-chan. He wasn't very efficient."_

_"I… Well, I hate to accuse…"_

_"Ahahaha! I wouldn't be offended! Go on, go on!"_

_"Well, uhm… I heard you…'rented' him out to people."_

_"Why yes I did, Interviewer-san. Yes I did."_

* * *

Entry Number Ninety-Three, December 20th

I'm still trying to recover from what happened.

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to describe what happened.

I'm so scared, so terrified. I feel… I'm not quite sure how I feel.

It's horrible. So horrible. I can't tell Roppi-san, he'll be mad at me. I can't tell him at all or…or he'll get rid of me.

I took a shower, but I still feel like a layer of dirt sits on my skin. I feel dirty. I feel disgusting. I don't know how to get rid of this feeling. I cleaned myself up as best I could, but it still feels like…feels like something is inside of me, and I'm scared to find out if Roppi will notice. Are things like that noticeable? Is that why Roppi wouldn't do anything with me when I was tending to other men?

I sound really pathetic right now. Shizuo's staring at me weird as I write because I'm whimpering a little, but he can't know about any of this. He just can't.

He went out to the balcony for a smoke, and right when the door closed behind him, Roppi came home. I went and kissed him because I wanted to let him know I love him. He was really shocked and pushed me away, and he looked around for Shizuo because he's scared he'll find out. I told him Shizuo was out smoking, and he calmed down a little before kissing me back really lightly.

He asked if I wanted to go somewhere with him tonight. I said yes.

His smile is perfect.

* * *

My reasons for fucking Tsuki are a little unclear.

See, I really did think he was cute when I first met him, and he's even better in bed, but he's definitely not partner material. Sure, he can cook and clean and he's loyal and stuff, but there's no spice in a relationship with him. You can tell him to do whatever and he'll do it. There's no surprise, no interest – it's all very straight forward. What you see is what you get.

And yes, that ass is as great as it looks.

I love making Tsuki scream. In pleasure, in pain, it's all the same – as long as his voice is loud and his throat hurts. But tonight, I gag him, wrapping that long, white scarf around his hands and forcing it into his mouth. His muffled protests don't stop me as I force his wrists above his head and pull his pants down. I'm too eager. I'm too full of lust.

I want to hurt him.

I pull off one of my rings and easily slide it over his cock. His eyes go so wide, they're almost bigger than his glasses. I chuckle, before stroking his face and calming him down.

"Shhh. I'll let you cum, I promise."

He relaxes a little, but he's obviously uneasy. His eyes beg me to release him, but I love having him at my mercy. I love controlling him, if only to make the sex more interesting, because a relationship between us would be boring.

And lately, the sex had started to get boring too. Tsuki never adds much, so I have to do most of the work. This includes bringing along the toys.

Although I tend to be cruel, I still rub lube on the line of beads before lifting Tsuki's legs and inserting them inside – I waste no time, not allowing him to adjust or relax, and all ten beads sit inside Tsuki in under a minute. He lays there, eyes rolling, legs trying to close. His teeth grind into his scarf.

"Careful, Tsuki-kun, you'll break it." Tsuki mutters unintelligently, and I grin – before tugging all ten beads out in one pull.

His scream is still audible around the scarf, though the sound is less. His eyes fly open, his body tenses up, but his cock hardens considerably. I start putting them back inside of him, and he squirms as I do so, knowing what's coming.

Again I rip them out, loving the sound of them slipping past his tight hole, loving the way his ass begs for them again. Once more I push the beads inside, but I go slow – watching him squirm as each new bead is greedily swallowed. His eyes beg me to not take them out, and I smile.

"It's okay. I'm going to fill you up tonight, Tsuki-kun."

After the beads comes the tiny vibrator, which pretty much requires a new battery after every time we use it, poor thing. Tsuki groans as I hook my fingers in his hole to make room for it, pushing it as deep inside as I can with only two digits. He moans and flails, body twisting and aching for more, before I calm him down.

"There, there…." I know what he wants, but I'm reluctant to give him anything. Instead, I run my hand the length of his cock, watching him whimper and whine. He knows he's restricted, that he isn't allowed to come, and every fleeting touch is torture to his skin. I take the time to cup his face and kiss his cheeks and run my fingers through his hair. I slip the scarf out of his mouth to land a kiss on his lips. Tsuki kisses me back, but a completely different message can be translated from both of us. My kiss is unloving, still, and only relays sexual desire and purpose, whereas Tsuki's kiss contains passion, excitement, willingness, and love.

I never know what to do about that love.

So I decide to do the best next thing and make it instead.

I've already removed my jacket, and in public places like this, the only other article that needs to be undone is the pants. I make sure they're lowered enough so the fly doesn't get in the way, rub more lube around Tsuki's entrance and onto myself, then line us up: It takes a steady hand to guide myself into his ass, and his eyes are going wet from the pain of being so full, but to me, it's amazing. The beads rubbing up beside me, surrounded by smooth, hot, wet walls… I turn the vibrator on, and I moan as Tsuki does.

No longer am I contained.

I don't start off slow or gentle, nice or loving. I immediately go for the harsh, fast, rough jerks and movements that should mean sex. My thrusts send him upward, messing up the sheets of the love hotel's bed, and he whines and squirms as he always does. I try to hold his hips steady, but my hard thrusts send him too far away. I slip out, and I have to reenter him again.

At some point, the beads fall out, but I'm already in a good rhythm. Tsuki's head is hanging off the edge of the bed, gasping and pleading as the scarf's fallen too loose to keep him quiet. I've set up a motion that prevents me from fucking him so hard he gets away, but the slap of skin can still be heard. I dig my nails into his thighs, growling possessively as I bang him – I can feel the heat growing in my belly.

"Rr-Roppi-san! Pluh-Please! More! More!"

"Shut the fuck up, Tsuki." I snarl, but I still do as he begs. I thrust harder, faster, as deep as I can, and he screams and begs and cries. Fed up with his constant noise, I tug my ring off his dick – almost painfully – and let him cum.

Even after he tires out, I still thrust into him.

"Nnn… Hnnng… Mmnnn… Rrrr…"

Tsuki's 'just had my brains fucked out' look is what sends me over the edge and spilling inside of him. His eyes had glanced up at me just right, his mouth open in a perfect O with drool dribbling down his chin, his hair tussled and messy from where I had gripped it and tugged…

I let myself slide out of him, stand, and go to get the washcloth to clean him up.

* * *

A/N: Wow this was a long chapter guys! Much, much longer than all the other ones! It might be a bit of a wait for the next chapter or two, because I posted a chapter before this one was completed (I was unsure of when I would finish!). I hope you all enjoyed it! ^^/

You get a hint as to who the interviewer is this chapter :D


	8. Encountering the Informant

**Consultation Offered After Terrible Sex**

Chapter Eight:**  
Encountering the Informant  
**

"I didn't rent him out to everyone that came by. Just to a select few. A lot fewer than what he had at that disgusting club, and he would've received twice the pay if the money had gone to him."

The interviewer looked…uneasy. Orihara was talking about these facts as if they were talking about the weather, yet instead, they were talking about selling some poor boy's body for…for…

"Uhm…wh-what do you mean, Orihara-san?"

"I paid Tsuki's debts for him. Each week, I gave him an option: Preform how I want you to and I pay for this week's payment, or refuse and I don't pay you at all. It was simple. He always chose the former; it was laughable, really." Sure enough, Izaya was laughing.

But he wasn't. Instead, he felt scared and fearful. Now he understood what Shizuo-san had been talking about; Izaya was most likely insane. All the clues were clicking together, all the pieces falling into place. Shivers were shuddering their way up his spine, and…he almost couldn't believe it. Was it really that easy?

"So…you're the reason he…"

"I guess you could say so. I helped him find that apartment, and hey, he kept his highest paying customers, yeah? If you think about it, Tsuki-kun had it really good."

This statement angered him, but he calmed himself down, remembering that the tape was recording the interview. He may need this later on. It was important.

"I… Yeah, I have information on that already. I have plans to meet with the landlord later in the week. So…ah… Orihara-san, may I ask how you obtained some of Tsuki's…customers? I thought…one of them was… uhm…"

Izaya's grin was growing broader and broader.

"How about I just tell the story, Interviewer-san? You seem to be quite flustered with the topic!"

He grumbled to himself, before letting Izaya take the stage.

* * *

Tokyo, Shinjuku, December

_"It was about a week before Christmas, I think…"_

It was still early in the day when Izaya returned to his apartment. He hated going out in the rain, and he grumbled as he hung up his coat. The fur had become sopping wet and would require a professional cleaning. Knowing how expensive it would be, he mentally noted himself to find a cheaper fur cleaner, before heading over to his desk. Although his clothes were damp from the weather, his body was hot and sensitive.

Running away from Heiwajima Shizuo was always a bit of a workout.

"_Tadaima_, Namie-chan. Is all the pa-"

Izaya was talking as he rounded the corner into the living room, but stopped when he spotted someone bent over and scrubbing the floor with a brush. There was an apron tied neatly at their back and neck, and their head was full of thick, blond hair.

Was this for real? Was Shizu-chan playing house in his living room?!

But all it took was a glance over to see that it was Tsuki, and Izaya realized that this wasn't Shizuo. His body was too slight, his eyes too red, his hair too light. He was someone else entirely, although he was related to Shizuo. It made Izaya nervous.

Too nervous.

Throughout the day, he could always spot Tsuki from the corner of his eye. His body would tense, ready to flee and grab for his knife, but then his muscles would relax upon realizing who it was. Even though Tsuki had been working for him for a few months now, Izaya still had not become accustom to seeing him. The kid seriously wasn't worth the trouble, even with all the information Hachi-chan had already sent him on the real Shizuo.

It was infuriating.

So he decided that he would fix the problem, and Izaya was always one looking for easy solutions. Solutions that fixed problems and provided enjoyment on his end were always the best kind of solutions, so it was almost too simple to decide on a course of action to put Tsuki in his place.

To make it so Izaya didn't have to be scared of him.

"Is Namie-chan home, Tsukishima-kun?" Izaya asked, approaching him from behind. Tsuki paused in his scrubbing, looking up at his employer with wide, innocent eyes. Oh how Izaya wanted to gorge out those eyes…

"Uhm, no. She…She tuh-told me to scrub the fluh-floors…then left…"

"Is that so? And she left you with all this work?!"

"I…I don't mind…"

Tsuki's voice was quiet, timid. It was such a contrast to Shizuo's loud yells and roars when he chased after Izaya. At least it made Tsuki easier to boss around.

After making a disgruntled noise on Tsuki's comment, Izaya looked around the apartment. It really had started to appear cleaner… Namie-chan had never done much cleaning, but Tsuki was nearly perfect at it. The counters sparkled, the curtains were fresh, the carpet was fluffy, and the wood shone with the extra care that it had received. Izaya could not find a speck of dust anywhere, and while the cleanliness of his home made him satisfied, the head of blond hair made his blood boil.

"Tsuki-kun, what was your job before this? Hachi-chan mentioned that it was very dangerous!"

Izaya's tone was light and cheerful, but Tsuki could see the malice glinting in his eyes. Tsuki had a feeling that Izaya knew very well what his job was beforehand.

He gulped, scrubbed the floor absentmindedly for a moment, before sitting up onto his knees and looking at Izaya nervously.

"I…I wuh-worked with my…mm-my cousin at a hoh-host club…"

"Ahh, _sou desu nee?_ Did you like working at the host club, Tsuki-kun?"

He was shaking now, his fingers fidgeting. Izaya was proud to see Tsuki squirm under his gaze, like a mouse cornered by a cat. He wanted to make him sweat, make him nervous, make him fear Izaya like Izaya feared him every time he caught a glimpse of Tsuki's features.

"Uhm… Ahh…"

"_Nee_, _nee_, if Tsuki-kun shows me what he used to do, I'll pay him extra!"

Tsuki stiffened, his eyes went wide, and his mouth opened and closed. Slowly, his head began to shake, but Izaya's smile had already grown tenfold. He reached out a hand, cupped Tsuki's chin, and examined his face. Tsuki whimpered and flinched away from the touch. He tried to get up from the floor, but Izaya's fingers kept him rooted.

"Pluh-Please… Orihara-san… Pluh-Please don't…"

"If Tsuki-kun refuses to show me…" Izaya chuckled, bending down to stare the blond in the eye, into those wide, red eyes. "…I won't pay him anything. Then the debt collectors will be by and beat poor Tsuki up! And maybe they'll beat up Hachi-chan too! Oh, how mean of them!"

His voice was sickly sweet, his grip on Tsuki tightening. Tsuki mewled, tears pooling in his eyes, shaking his head. _Not Roppi, not Roppi, anything but Roppi!_

Something in him snapped, and whatever fight he had left him. He let Izaya lay him on the couch, let him take away all his clothes, let him prepare and torment him…

_"He was amazing! So calm and docile, but he was tense. It made him so much tighter than he should've been! Interviewer-san, did you ever get a chance to touch him? No? It's alright, I fucked him hard enough for both of us, ahahaha!"_

* * *

Video One, Orihara's Apartment, December 28th

The position and angle of the camera is slightly strange, seemingly fitted into some small space. It has a perfect view of the couches, the table between them, and the living space. In the background can be seen the stairs, the kitchen, and the hallway that leads to the front door. A sliver of the bookcases can be seen – perhaps the camera is positioned at Orihara's desk.

The quality isn't the best, but details are clear enough to make out faces and clothes, even expressions. Sounds, however, are muffled – it's almost impossible to make out the light conversation between Orihara Izaya and an older gentleman with a white suit and black shirt. Papers are exchanged between them, Orihara writes some stuff down in an explanation, and Tsuki comes around the corner after a few minutes with tea.

The older gentleman seems caught off guard by seeing Tsuki. The expression is strange, seemingly displaced, on a man that was amazingly composed earlier. Tsuki bows and apologizes, his stutter still audible through the camera's weak mic, before going back into the kitchen.

"Did you like what you saw, Shiki-san?"

Orihara's voice is close by, allowing the camera to pick it up. He must be at his desk, and the sounds of the printer can be heard as Shiki-san replies. Orihara laughs, a light sound, before explaining.

"He's the younger brother of that singer you really like." Suddenly, the sounds of the mic shift as Orihara walks away, but their voices are hearable.

"Is he now…?" Shiki frowns, glancing off in the direction Tsuki had gone.

"If you wanted to…I'd be more than happy to let you have a go at him."

There's silence as the older man seems to contemplate this, watching Izaya before glancing back at where Tsuki had stood before.

"There always some sort of catch in your plans, Informant-san. What is it?"

Orihara feigns innocence, and he looks surprised that the older man would accuse him of anything. "A catch?! Why would there be a catch?!" He swoons, over dramatically, before leaning close to the older gentlemen.

"I just want to watch the damn kid have his skull fucked, is that so much to ask?"

There's a hatred burning in Orihara-san's eyes, a malic to his expression, which the camera does not miss. Shiki-san does not miss it either, and he watches Orihara carefully. One could guess that he's looking for the informant's sanity.

"You don't like him, do you?"

Orihara chuckles darkly.

"I hate him, if only because he looks like that horrid monster."

"He does look a bit like Heiwajima-san, doesn't he?"

His eyes turn a shade darker, his face contorts into an uglier expression, before pulling away. "It doesn't help that he's living under the same roof as that inhuman bastard."

Shiki doesn't seem impressed and falls silent until Tsuki walks back in with a small plate of food. He places it on the table, smiling. "Duh-Does _shachou_-san like the tih-tea?" He asks, voice polite and high. Even through the mic he sounds nervous.

At first, Shiki-san doesn't answer. Orihara turns away and goes upstairs, saying he's going to grab some papers. The moment his shoes disappear outside of the camera's view, Shiki answers Tsuki with a question of his own.

"What's your name, little one?"

"Ts-Tsukishima, _shachou_-san."

"Tsukishima-kun, yeah…? Do you have any siblings?"

Tsuki gulps, before sitting down beside the older man on the couch. He nods. "Juh-Just one. An older bruh-brother."

"Is that so…" Shiki glances away, before sighing and reaching out for Tsuki's hand. He makes the confused teenager stand up, then sit down again on the floor. Next, he positions his knees on either side of Tsuki's head, and that's when the blond's face fills with regret. Afterwards, it's hard to see Tsuki's face as he struggles weakly. A strong, broad hand prevents him from getting away.

The camera can just barely catch the older gentleman unzip his pants and pulls something out, but right afterward, the mic catches Tsuki's scream as his hair is grabbed and his head forced downward. He struggles, weakly, before giving in. He's shaking, shuddering, but he seems to be doing whatever has been asked of him. Orihara comes back downstairs, grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the sight.

"My, my.~"

"Review the situation with me of that gang in Nakano. The one that started all the dealings in the subways last week." His face is neutral as he talks, and Izaya seems impressed. They talk and do business as Tsuki silently struggles between the older man's legs, whimpering loudly whenever his hair is tugged or pulled. Suddenly, the film of the camera goes dark.

It's replaced with phone-quality video, most likely from Izaya's phone concerning the direct angle. Tsuki's crying, his hair is a mess, and drool dribbles down his chin in huge amounts. His eyes are wide and scared, his lips puffy, his cheeks red… But when the older gentleman finally cums, Tsuki barely chokes on it – at least, not until Shiki-san roughly pulls out and shoots the last bit on Tsuki's face. He coughs and gags, whimpering.

Shiki himself had only cum with a deep sigh, but there's a spark in his eyes that says a lot more about what he wants.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! I know this is a ton shorter than the last chapter (it was over 4000 words! Wow!), and I'm sorry it took so long to get out, but I hope you like it all the same! :3

I don't get a lot of reviews or readers, but I'm thinking of writing a HibiDeli story! Would anyone be interested in reading King Hibiya and P.O.W. Delic? o: It wouldn't be like this one, with the interviews. ^^;;

Let me know please! Thank you for reading! :3  
Oh, and "shachou" means 'president' - Tsukishima thinks Shiki's a president to an important company.


End file.
